


Our Darkest Days: The Revolution

by Purry



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Original Character Death(s), Recreational Drug Use, Swearing, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-19 15:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purry/pseuds/Purry
Summary: Lucy's life was turned upside down after a global power outage -- dubbed "The Blackout" -- ravaged a world dependent on technology. Now, several years into the apocalyptic disaster, everything has changed.





	1. The Night The Lights Went Out In Texas

Part  _ I _ : Chapter  _ I _

 

The   Night  The Lights 

Went    Out In    Texas

* * *

 

“So,” The man’s voice echoed around the empty room, the sounds of a chair scraping against the ground as he walked slowly forward in the dark, his face hidden from the light that streamed in from the window behind him. A figure sitting just in front of him, strapped down to a chair, duct tape and rope securing her hands behind her and a sack covering her head. She looked around, clearly she couldn’t see: but she tried nonetheless. Her breathing was loud and rugged. He threw the chair down in front of her, sitting down. He leaned forwards until his elbows rested against his knees, he stared at her, his brown eyes gleaming from the small amount of sunlight. He was the interrogator, the one in control. He was wearing some sort of uniform, seemingly the most powerful man for miles around. He reached forwards, tugging the sack from the woman’s head to reveal her face, bruised and bloodied. She stared at him with so much hatred that it could kill him. “Why don’t you start talking.” He merely tells her, pulling out a knife. She looked on at him, unmoving, her whole body like stone as her heart pumped, faster and faster. Her eyes stained with tears that flowed with every emotion except fear.

  
  


They sat in a strained silence for what seemed like forever, but only a few seconds had passed before he plunged the knife into the arm of her chair. “Talk.” He demanded, standing up and looming over her, but she wasn’t scared, she barely lost eye contact with him. “I want to know exactly what you’ve been doing all these years.” He lifts his foot, kicking her chair backwards until it angled towards the ground, teetering near the point of collapsing to the floor, He loomed even closer to her, his jaw clenched as he began to grow inpatient with her silence.

“I want to know exactly what led you to do everything stupid you’ve ever done that led you to here. Every time you fucked up so much that it led us closer and closer to you.”

 

Her dry throat growled as she choked on herself, attempting to find the words but couldn’t seem to push anything from her mouth which lay parted, her lips cracked and dry, coated with blood.

 

“Why don’t we start with your name?” He asks, letting go of her chair and allowing it to fall back on to all fours, the woman jerking forward with it. “You may think I’m an idiot, but I know that’s not your real name.” He tells her, returning to his own seat and pulling the knife back from her chair, holding it again. “C’mon then.”

 

“Lucy.” She finally said, her voice croaky and unintentionally wavering.

 

“Speak up.” He demands.

 

“Lucy.” She repeats, more forceful, her vocal chords feeling like they were about to snap at any moment.

 

“Well, Lucy. Why don’t you start talking.”

 

* * *

 

**D** allas,  **T** exas,  **S** eptember 17th 2012. 02:43am.

  
  


The night was cold, the full moon glowing down on the small, Texan city, lighting it up like a wonderful dream. She wanted to go home, her body shivered in the cold breeze, but she couldn’t, not like this. In her lap sat an empty can of beer, her fingers numbly grasping around the metal. 

 

“I want to get out of here.” The girl besides her spoke up, prompting Lucy to turn and raise her eyebrow towards her friend, her legs dangled over the edge of the wall they sat on. She reached out, holding her can at arms length before dropping it to the floor a story below them. “Do you think anyone would miss me?” She asked, her words slurring as she leaned her head to the left until she bumped against Lucy’s shoulder, resting there.

 

“What do you mean? Of course people will miss you.” Lucy assured her, frowning at the thought of her friend disappearing, life wouldn’t go on as normal and Lucy knew that.

 

“Like who?” Her friend scoffed.

 

“Sandreen Morris.” A voice called out from behind them, Lucy huffed as she turned, two boys waltzing towards them, one of them flicking a cigarette into the nearby bushes while the other adjusted their backpack.  Sandreen also turned, gripping the wall for balance as she stumbled off of it, landing with a thud in front of the boys.

 

“What do you pricks want?” Sandreen asked as the boys stopped in front of her, coming out of the light of the streetlight and into the dark of the night. The boys exchanged glances. Sandreen broke, a wide grin on her face. “Just kiddin’, do you have the stuff?”

 

Lucy watched as they spoke, the other boy taking his backpack off and dropping it on the floor, crouching down to open it and began to rummage through it.

 

“C’mon, Zayn, we don’t have all day.” His friend spoke.

 

“Aw man shut up, It’s in here somewhere just g-- Got it.” Zayn stood up, holding out a paper bag. Lucy’s stomach did flips as Sandreen took the bag happily in between her index and thumb. “Dylan found it in his dad’s house.” Zayn explains as Sandreen opens the bag. 

 

“Sandy,  I--”

 

“Why don’t you come back to mine?” Dylan interrupted Lucy, “My dad smokes it too, so he won’t mind.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Sandy agreed, turning to Lucy and letting Zayn take the backpack back.  Sandy skipped over to Lucy and wrapped her arm around Lucy’s.

 

“I think I just want to go home.” Lucy told Sandy quietly.

 

“What?! But we’re just getting started. Plus, you said you couldn’t go home. Guess you’re stuck with me.” Sandy grinned, leaning into Lucy until they were almost touching faces. Lucy realised she was right, if her mother had found out she had drank so much, nevermind been involved in drugs, Lucy would be dead before morning. So, they went, Dylan leading the way as they walked into the brightly lit sidewalk, which contrasted with the dark alleyway they had been hiding down, and made their way to Dylan Doyle’s house on the end of the cul-de-sac.

 

“I don’t see you out much, Lucy. Your mom finally loosened up?” Dylan asked, slowing down until he was side-by-side with Lucy.

 

“I guess.” Lucy shrugged, awkwardly sticking her hand into her pocket to try and heat herself up.

 

“I’ll loosen your mom up.” Zayn jeered, inappropriately gesturing to his crotch. Sandy kicked out towards him but he easily stumbled backwards out of the way.

 

“Shut up!” Sandy defended, the embarrassed Lucy turning a soft shade of red. Zayn just smirked, turning and beginning to jog ahead of them towards the only house that was lit up at such a late hour. Zayn was older than the other three he had decided to hang out with tonight, but surprisingly acted like he was five years old. As he came out of hearing distance from the rest of the group, Dylan elbowed Lucy to attract her attention.

 

“Seriously, though. Your mom, still a sour puss?” He questioned, Lucy meekly shrugged, frowning through her thoughts.

 

“I guess. It took me, like, two months to even be let out this late.” Lucy tells him, staggering across the sidewalk. 

 

“She’s comin’ back to my place after, so her mom can stuff it.” Sandy adds, the sidewalk swaying underneath her.

 

Lucy shook her head, cracking a smile as she looked from Sandy to Dylan, who turned his head away from her before they made eye contact. They eventually arrived at the gate leading towards the front door, Zayn hanging around waiting. Dylan pushed open the gate, walking in with Lucy and Sandy just behind him.

 

Unlocking the door, Dylan led the small group inside the house. It was unusually hot, a stuffy atmosphere compared to the bitter night just outside the door. Just to their right, a door leads into the living room where light snoring can be heard. Dylan pushes open the door lightly to see his father sitting in a chair, dozed off with two bottles of beer by his feet. Pulling over the door again, Dylan closes the front door before leading upstairs.

 

Lucy enters Dylan’s bedroom, the scent changing from a stale pong of beer and cigarettes to a sharp smell of aftershave and spray. The room was rather huge, bigger than Lucy’s bedroom at home. The bed was messily made with pillows strewn across the top, there were some suspicious stains on his floor but other than that the room was clean, surprising Lucy as she thought about her brother’s back home, and how messy he was.

 

Zayn flicked a light on and leaped on to the king sized bed with an enormous thump just as Sandy shut over the door. “Can you keep it down?!” She snapped, sitting besides Lucy in the large chair by the window. Zayn just shrugged, taking the paper bag that he had pulled out earlier and opened it, pulling out the drugs inside.

 

“Ever done this stuff before, Lucy?! Apparently it makes you suuuper sleepy!” Sandy commented. Lucy shook her head, watching the boys figure out how to divide it equally between the four of them. Sandy, growing impatient after such a short space of time, stood up and waltzed over to the boys to sort it out herself.

 

“Fuck sake Sandy, don’t touch it!!” Zayn argued.

 

“This was all my idea!” Sandy fought back, reaching for the bag but instead collapsing into Zayn’s lap. Dylan quickly evacuated from the bed, approaching Lucy. The smell of smoke began to fill the air, the party beginning as Zayn let out a sloppy shriek of excitement. Lucy tried to avoid what was happening, but at the same time her nostrils flared with intrigue at the new smell.

 

“You look fuckin’ uncomfortable.” Dylan commented, crouching down in front of Lucy until they were face to face.

 

“Oh?!” Lucy sat up with an effort, pushing herself to look more alert as her eyes caught Sandy and Zayn dangerously close to kissing, her hand wrapped around far up his inner leg, her other hand holding her cigarette rollup. “Give it to me, then.” Lucy said, almost forcefully, catching Dylan by surprise, his eyebrow cocking as he passed the girl the cigarette and brought his lighter out, lighting it and letting it catch to the flame. Lucy sat back in the chair, taking her first drag of the cigarette, the smoke filling her lungs as she began coughing up, pulling the cigarette away from her lips as Sandy giggled from the bed, having removed herself from Zayn’s lap to watch Lucy. 

 

“Damn, sis!” Zayn hollered as Lucy came down from her choking. “You almost swallowed the damn thing.”

 

Lucy giggled to herself, looking to Dylan who was still fixated on the small girl clutching the cigarette. “What’d you think?” She asks shyly but her small posture sat confidently in the large wicker seat. 

 

“It was alright.” Dylan teased, extending his arm out to push Lucy’s hand towards her mouth again where she took another drag. Dylan ghosted his fingers over her’s for a second longer before pulling away, putting his cigarette to his own mouth. About to say something, Dylan was interrupted by the low groan from Zayn behind them. Lucy bowed her head, lowering the cigarette as she hid her giggles at Zayn and Sandy, who had turned their attention to each other’s lips.

 

“That’s great.” Dylan said sarcastically, getting up from his crouched position and flopping down in the chair next to Lucy. Her face burned again and she prayed he was too out of it to notice. “It’s sad, y’know? We haven’t spoken in so long…” His words came out slow. Leaning his head until it fell against Lucy’s shoulder. “Your mom’s a bitch.” 

 

“She can be a bit like that sometimes, I’m sure.” 

“Is it ‘cause she doesn’t like me anymore?” He asks, looking at her now.

“No, I don’t think so…”

“I bet she fucking despises me.” A hint of anger laces his voice, his eyes wandering just behind Lucy as he began thinking, Lucy couldn’t make out what.

“It--” She stuttered over her thoughts, “It doesn’t matter what she thinks of you.” She shuffled along in the seat, giving him more room as he seemed to slowly slide down like he was falling asleep.

“I just miss hanging out with you.” Almost a whisper, he bumps his head against Lucy’s shoulder. Her heartbeat was fast, faster than it ever had been before. She opened her mouth to speak but instead she was surrounded by a pitch darkness, she shook at the sudden change in light.

 

“What the FUCK?!” Zayn’s voice yelled from someplace over at the bed. Dylan got up, she knew because she felt the chair creak beneath them. “I CAN’T FUCKING SEE.”

 

“Shut up.” Sandy whispered, the bed squeaking slightly. The light was dim, but Lucy could start to make out the figures in the room. The moonlight was helping at least. She looked up at the open window which sat just beside her, Dylan stumbled against the window frame. Lucy stood and grabbed at his arm to help him stable. She threw her cigarette discreetly out the window, patting herself down. “Go get your dad.” Sandy urged.

 

“Fuck no, and have him know what we’ve been doing?” Dylan asked, looking over at the outline of Sandy, he could swear she was almost half naked.

 

“Well, do something!” Sandy argued. Lucy watched the cigarette fall into the bushes below them and the light at the end slowly went out until it joined the darkness. Outside, as she looked up, it was dark everywhere. When it clicked in her head that this wasn’t normal, she watched as a plane came plummeting from the clouds.

 

“Dylan, look!” She gasped, her whole body rigid except her arm that tugged against his sleeve. He turned, his face painted with annoyance, and looked out the window just as the plane made it’s collision with a nearby hospital, sending it up in flames and smoke. Lucy covered her mouth, a shocked reflex. The sound was terrifying, a loud rumble that rippled through the air. The flames which rose from the distance gave light to the nearby area. Zayn walked over with his shirt in hand, leaning in between Dylan and Lucy to get a good look out the window.

 

“What’s going on?” He asked, draping his arm across Dylan’s shoulder.

“I don’t see any light.” Dylan says.

 

Lucy took a step away from the boys, walking over to Sandy who was sitting, slumped on her legs as she bounced playfully on the bed. She smiled goofily at Lucy.

 

“What’s going on?” She asks drowsily, immediately flopping over until she landed on her side.

“I dunno.”

“Tell meeeeee…”

“Can we leave?” 

“Shut up.” 

 

“DYLAN.” His dad’s voice erupted from downstairs as he began charging heavily towards the bedroom.

 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Dylan panicked, throwing open the window and chucking his cigarette into the next door garden. “Give me your fucking shit.”

 

“No way!” Sandy groaned into the pillow, Lucy grabbed her cigarette quickly and threw it past Dylan out the window, Zayn followed suit as he shoved the bag into his pants. The door swung open, almost knocking Lucy off of her feet.

 

“What the FUCK is that smell?” Dylan’s dad charged inside, his hands already unbuckling at the belt around his waist.

 

“Nothin’, It’s just from you earlier.” Dylan lied, but he continued to pull the belt off regardless. Lucy flinched, watching the large man raise his belt above the skinny boy’s body and bring it down. Dylan turned away in a learned reflex, the belt lashing against his back in quick, progressively harder lashes. Lucy covered her ears and shut her eyes as she stood with half her body behind the door, briefly gazing over at Sandy who had seemingly passed out on the bed. A tear rolled from her eye as she waited for the night to end.


	2. Afterthought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the eventful night, Lucy returns home.

 

Part  _ I _ : Chapter  _ II _

 

Afterthought

The cell was dark, cold and dirty. She sat with her eyes fixated on the door, the light echo of water dripping in the corner of the room the only sound she focused on. She was on the floor, nothing being in the cage with her except a stained mattress. This was the same for each of the cells lined against the wall; Three of them. Trapped in the middle one, Lucy was forced to listen to the pained moans of the man to her left as he lay curled on the mocket floor, dried blood surrounding him.

 

“Hey--” Another man croaked, wrapping his fingers around the cell bars as he leaned over to get closer to Lucy sitting in the middle of hers. “Hey.” He repeated. Lucy sat still. The man couldn’t figure out if she was ignoring him or simply not hearing. He was buff, scars covering his bare arms. His shirt was ripped across the front, barely exposing a healing gash across his chest. “Please, you gotta say something. You-- You gotta get me out of here. I know you can, please.” He begged, gripping the bars tighter and clenching his teeth, he hit his forehead against the metal in somewhat defeat, a choke escaping his dry mouth. 

 

Lucy continued to look towards the rusted door, blinking slowly as she felt sleep take over her. She fought to stay awake. She couldn’t afford to sleep.

 

“I’m begging you,” The man continued, meekly and quietly, looking towards the door and then back at Lucy. “I don’t know what else to do.”

* * *

 

**D** allas,  **T** exas,  **S** eptember 17th 2012. 06:50am.

  
  


Lucy lay awake in the bed. Dylan’s bed. She hadn’t moved for most of the night. Fading in and out of sleep, she absent mindedly played with Dylan’s hair. He lay beside her lost in a dream. The house was silent but the memories of the night replayed like a stuck record in Lucy’s head. 

 

She wasn’t quite sure of the time, but the sun had risen which gave her a clear indication she probably should have left by now. Something inside her told her not to leave, so she stayed. She stayed optimistic that last night was a dream but as she leaned over to switched on the lamp, nothing happened. She could feel tears welling up, what had happened? Horrific thoughts continued to run through her head: Her friends, her family, Dylan. Was this real life?

 

Dylan stirred awake as Lucy leaned back on the bed. She jumped at his sudden snort and crawled aside to put a gap between them. He sat up, pressing the palm of his hand against his forehead and sat there for a short while, in silence. Lucy just watched him with sad eyes, a frown across her face. Lucy wasn’t sure that he even knew she was there until he turned to face her.

 

“Where’s Zayn and Sandy?” He finally spoke with furrowed eyebrows as he looked around the room.

 

“They left a few hours ago.” Lucy told him, playing with a strand of her hair as she didn’t take her eyes off of Dylan. He stood from the bed, wandering over to the bedside cabinet and pulling open a drawer. She watched for a second as he rummaged through the contents and pulled out a pill bottle. “I should probably go.” Lucy added.

 

Dylan sat the bottle of pills on top of the cabinet and nodded. “Yeah.” He merely spoke, bowing his head as he avoided eye contact. Lucy stood, not saying another word as she walked towards the bedroom door and pulled it open. 

 

“Do you want to come with me?” She asked quickly, turning back towards him as he picked a pill from the bottle and swallowed it dry. He looked at her -- his face a mixture of bitterness and embarrassment -- and shook his head. 

 

“Of course I don’t.” He said, waving his hand dismissively. “Just go.” He told her. With that, she left the house, finding no trace of his father as she walked out. She looked around the cul-de-sac, cars still parked outside the houses and every house in darkness. She knew it was early, but surely someone was awake for work.

 

She made her way down the street, passing by a neighbour who knelt by his car as his wife screamed down his ear. 

 

“You’re useless!!” She angrily declared.

“I’m trying my best--”

“You’re the mechanic!”

 

The street was desolate: No cars, no people. She made it home easily, turning into a path surrounded by a populated garden of roses and shrubbery, she spotted a girl not much younger than her at the window -- her sister. She bounced away from the window as Lucy approached the bright green front door. Before she could reach to turn the knob, her mother opened the door with quick haste.

 

“Lucy!” She exclaimed, immediately putting her arm around her daughter and dragging her inside. “WHERE have you been?!” She demanded, letting go of her and sniffing suspiciously at her hair. “Have you been drinking?”

 

“I was at Dylan’s with Sandy.” She honestly spoke, kicking her shoes off at the door. Her family gathered nearby. Her eldest sibling, Tom, stood at the top of the stairs with her other sisters.  Their mother turned her nose up at Lucy,

 

“Dylan’s?! I told you to not go near that boy anymore.” She said, turning away from Lucy. “Jack!” She exclaimed. Within moments, Lucy’s father came around from the living room clutching at his cellphone -- which was dead.

 

“What is it?” He asks, shoving it into his pocket.

“Your daughter refuses to follow instruction.” She says, her tone low. Lucy exchanged eye contact with Tom, who gestured to her to come up the stairs. Which she did, slowly, as they spoke.

“What happened? We’ve got bigger problems, Georgie.” Jack replied, annoyed.

“I want you to discipline her.” She snapped.

“For what?! Talking to her best f--”

“They are not friends anymore, Jack! She has to learn to follow her mother’s instructions.”

 

“Lucy, c’mon.” Tom took Lucy’s hand and led her up the stairs as Jack and Georgina continued to fight in the hallway. Following behind them, Jessy and Millie. “What were you doing?” Tom asks as they retreat to Tom’s room, which was blue and dark.

 

“Nothin’! I just went with Sandy, what’s the big deal?!” Lucy replied defensively.

“So  _ nothing  _ happened?” 

“No!” Lucy yanked her hand out of Tom’s. Millie bit against her tongue as she concentrated on pressing her ear against the floor, listening to the remainder of the fight.

 

“You just have to leave her to her own devices. If this boy is as bad as he seems, she’ll find out.” Jack tells her.

“And what if she finds out too late?! Huh?! I’m doing what’s best for my children.”

“You don’t think I know that?! We have to have clear heads, Georgie. Nothing is working in this house. I could’ve just lost  _ everything _ .” He seethes, turning away from her and returning to the living room, letting out a groan.

 

“Do you know what happened?” Millie asks, looking up at Lucy who just shrugged.

 

“Lights went out.” 

“Because of the plane crash?” 

 

Lucy had to think for a moment, her brain playing tricks on her. Tom sat in silence, hoping she’d say yes.

 

“No,” Lucy furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head. “No. Afterwards.”

 

“How could a plane just crash like that?” Jessy said in disbelief.

 

The siblings sat in silence, the sound of the front door indicated the fight was over and that one of their parents had stormed out. To clear their head, or to find help with the electricity none of them really knew. They didn’t even realize at that moment that none of their lives would ever be the same again.


	3. Drowned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the power out, the Veronica family have to start making decisions on where to go from here, little do they know someone is about to beat them too the punch.

Part  _ I _ : Chapter  _ III _

 

Drowned

* * *

 

The rag was pounded with a harsh stream of brown colored water. Lucy Veronica shrieked from underneath. Her wrists tugged against her restraints as the man towering above her watched her squirming, before abruptly stopping. Lucy could breathe again, as he briefly removed the cloth from her face and slapped the side of her face to get her attention.

 

“You’re good.” He said, placing the bucket on the floor and sliding a knife out from his belt. Lucy’s neck craned as far back as she could as he brought the knife to her neck, pressing the blade gently into her skin. “Are you really going to die for them?” He asked, and silence fell in the room once again. Apart from the ragged breathing from his hostage, the man couldn’t get a noise out of her. He picked up the bucket angrily, inspecting the remaining contents. She started tugging her wrists hard against her restraints again, twisting and pulling in each and every way to try and loosen herself enough to slip out. She was skinny enough, she hadn’t properly eaten in god knows how long.

 

He threw the cloth over her face again, going out of his way to push some of the fabric inside her mouth. She groaned, it tasted of salt and dirt. The water began pouring again and she gurgled over herself, spitting and throwing her head around as the cloth soaked through again.

 

“P--” she begged, balling her hands into a fist so hard her nails bruised her skin. The words escaped her mouth in a gurgle of misunderstanding. He stopped pouring and dropped the bucket, clanging against the stone ground and echoed around the almost completely empty room. He ripped the cloth from her face.

 

“Why would you die for them!?” He demands to know through gritted teeth, grabbing her neck and squeezing once. The door opened behind him. “Are you foolish?!”

 

“Enough, Arthur.” A voice interrupted, Arthur let go of her neck and turned around allowing Lucy to catch her breath. She choked, her whole body shaking. “If she’s not going to speak, we’ll have to move her to phase three.” 

* * *

 

**D** allas,  **T** exas,  **S** eptember 19th 2012. 8:00pm.

 

Georgina Veronica lit the burnt out wick of the candle with her lighter, a small flame beginning to burn. She placed the candle down gently on the table. On the other side of the room, Millie stared blankly out the window, scanning the streets for any sign of life but saw none.

 

“Millie, darling. Get away from the window.” Georgina demanded as Jack came sauntering down the stairs, carrying a duvet and several pillows. “Jack--”

 

“Just for tonight, tomorrow we’re leaving this place.” Jack told her, much to Georgina’s disgust. Millie stepped away from the window, letting the curtains close behind her as she made her way towards her father.

 

“Do we really have to go?” She questions, sitting on the sofa. Jack puts the makeshift bed down on the ground and nods his head hesitantly.

“It’s the only way we can figure out what’s going on.”

 

Lucy was sitting in the kitchen, fiddling with her brother’s cell phone as he drank the last of the rather stale milk.

 

“You’re disgusting.” She said, not even looking up from the phone as he tossed the carten into the empty bin.

“If we don’t drink it, who will?” He says, sitting at the kitchen island opposite Lucy. “We’re leaving tomorrow, got to get use out of everything.”

“I’m sure that’s exactly what we have to do,” She rolls her eyes, putting the phone on the counter and sliding it over to Tom, shaking her head. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

 

“Of course you don’t,” Jessy butted in, resting her open palms against the counter and looking down at the phone and then to Tom and Lucy. “Everything’s broken. If you do find out how to fix it, though, that would be great.” Sarcasm laced her tongue.

“Sorry for trying.” Lucy said robotically, resting her chin in her hand. “There’s not much else to do.” 

 

Jessy tapped her chin with her finger, looking over to the backdoor. She froze in her spot. A looming shadow behind the blind, which then disappeared before she could react.

 

“Did you see that?” Jessy said quietly, a faint sound of metal clinking could be heard. Tom rose from his seat promptly and leaned over the counter to look out the window which sat just by the door, but he couldn’t see anything. The backdoor handle twisted and a man stood in the doorway. Lucy screamed, bounding out of her seat like a startled gazelle. He held a gun in his right hand and had a black mask covering his face.

 

“DADDY!” Jessy screamed, Tom grabbed for a kitchen knife.

“Don’t fucking move.” The man demanded, pointing the gun to Tom, then to Lucy and then back at Tom. Tom’s hand ghosted over the knife’s handle as he froze in place, staring the man down. The only feature of his face visible was his eyes, which gleamed a sadistic green. “I want all your fucking shit. NOW.” 

Jack came into the room, but stopped and held his hands out when he saw the man. He pointed his gun in Jack’s direction and put his finger on the trigger. 

 

“Don’t do anything, sir. We don’t want any--”

“THEN GET YOUR FUCKING MONEY,” He yells, “GET IT.”

 

“Just let me get my kids out of the kitchen, sir. My wife’s purse is over by the end counter.” Jack briefly gestured towards the other end of the room, where a brown, leather purse and two sets of keys lay. Tom was in the way, so he took a large side step away, leaving the knife.

 

“C’mon,” Jack tapped Jessy’s shoulder and prompted her to leave the kitchen, running into the hallway where she found Georgina. Lucy quickly followed, sinking into her mother’s arm with her sister. Millie watched from the living room, shaking herself although she didn’t know the full danger of the situation. 

 

Jack watched the man move across the kitchen, turning his back on the boys to retrieve the purse, Tom made his move. Swiftly moving from one side of the aisle to another again, he grabbed the knife and lunged at the attacker. He used one hand to grab at his mask and another to slide the knife into the man’s body. The man turned, the purse’s long handle draped over his lower arm. His gun cocked upwards. The knife slid into his shoulder and then a gunshot.

“NO--” Jack yelled, lunging forward but only stopping when the mask was ripped from the man’s face, revealing his true identity. A neighbour. A trusted neighbour. Philip Keyte. He panicked, shoving Tom away from him, the young boy stumbling against the kitchen counters. Philip shakily apologizes, making his way out of the backdoor and into the dark night. Jack looked towards his eldest, who stood clutching his gut, his mouth agape and Jack mimicked this look as Tom collapsed to the floor. 

 

Jack ran over. Tom pulled his hand away from his stomach, his hand stained a crimson red as blood poured from the gunshot wound in his stomach.

 

“GEORGINA,” Jack yelled, pressing his hands to Tom’s stomach. Without a second thought, Georgina came running in and screamed in horror at the scene. “DON’T LET THE GIRLS SEE.” He added. It was too late. Jessy stood at the kitchen door, frozen in shock. Georgina turned and pushed the girls away.

 

“Don’t come in, everything’s fine. Everything’s going to be okay.” She urged, closing the door over so it lay ajar. 

 

“We need the first aid kit.” Jack urged. Georgina wasted little time, her hands shaking as tears flowed from her eyes without warning. She pulled the red box from the upper cabinets and let it fall to the ground. 

 

“We have to go to the hospital,” She cried. She begged, Jack shook his head: a mix of anger and fear. 

“The hospital is GONE, Georgie.” 

 

Tom gasped for air on the floor, blood running down his body and beginning to stain the pristine kitchen floor. He shook his head, cries of agony escaping his lips. Georgina wept helplessly as she watched her son's life fade from her fingertips, pushing a once dry kitchen towel against his seeping wound, her hand stained red as Tom's blood soaked through the fabric to her skin. Jack gave her instructions, or some sort of words of encouragement -- she didn't know, her mind was racing so fast she couldn't process his words.

"Please, Tom--" She choked, placing one of her hands on his cheek as his eyes closed over, a blood stained hand imprinted on his face. "Please don't leave me." She silently begged. That was when she started screaming, the first scream hollow and desperate. From outside the kitchen door, Lucy clasped her hands over her ears in a weak attempt to block it out. Jessy sank to her knees silently, sliding down the wall until she sit the floor. Millie sat on the couch, coddling a blanket like it was a child in her arms. They knew. 

 

And as the cries continued, they grew weaker and fainter. She'd had enough. Already. As her body shook uncontrollably. Jack, he just knelt by the boy and looked at his pale face. He looked down at his own hands, bloodied. To the side, a desperate attempt to save his son's life. It was for nothing. 

 

They were broken. A missing piece of their puzzle.


End file.
